Headlines
by sponsormusings
Summary: 5 months had passed since Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had signed on the dotted line for Capitol Records and agreed to become a couple just for the cameras. Except, 5 months ago, neither had expected their charade to become a reality. An outtake from 'Contract Clause', set during chapter 6. A submission for Prompts in Panem, round 8. Day 2.


" _Things look to be getting even more serious between our favourite musical lovebirds! Sources say Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark have been spotted scoping out houses in the elite hilltop estates of Panem for their very own love nest…"_

Katniss rolled her eyes, threw Madge's trashy entertainment magazine on the floor and took another long sip from the giant soda she'd grabbed from In-N-Out on her way home from the studio. Stories like this weren't really anything new - every week, she was pregnant, or they were on the verge of splitting up, or Peeta had secretly reunited with his ex-flame - and they continued to annoy her. Their apparent moving in together was just the latest in a long line of Things So Far From the Truth. And much like everything else they were being reported of doing, she and Peeta hadn't even discussed it; moving in together was so far off their radar it was practically in another galaxy. In all honesty, she was pretty sure they were both still just getting used to the idea of them actually _being_ a real couple, let alone even thinking about buying real estate.

It had been just over 5 months since Katniss and Peeta had signed their contract with Capitol Records, 5 months since they'd agreed to enter a contractual relationship as a way to keep Peeta in the spotlight while his band - _The Mockingjays_ \- were on hiatus, and as a way to boost Katniss' burgeoning solo career. 5 months since she'd been reunited with the man she thought had rejected her in high school - only to find that he'd thought she'd rejected _him_. Weeks of arguing, of snapping at each other, of falling for each other again without wanting to admit it, had culminated in them both finally expressing how they felt. Now, for the last three months, they'd 'officially' been together.

Not that Caesar or Plutarch, the heads of Capitol Records, knew about that. That was something Katniss and Peeta had been very, very careful to keep from the two people who they'd come to refer to as their puppet-masters. Some things, they agreed, didn't deserve to be exploited.

Her best friend and flatmate, Madge, stepped into the living room from the kitchen, a carton of take-out Chinese in hand, the chopsticks held to her mouth as she sucked in a mouthful of egg noodles. "Moving out on me, Everdeen?" She asked around the food, glancing down at the discarded magazine.

"You'd be the first to know if I was," Katniss told her wryly.

"Good to hear." Madge dropped to the sofa beside her, propped her feet on the coffee table. "Because rent is an expensive bitch, and so is finding good roommates."

"You have a boyfriend, Madge, I doubt it would be hard for you in the event I ever move out."

"Gale can't put things in the dirty clothes hamper. He just throws them in the bath."

"So that makes him a bad potential roommate?"

"Mmmm-hmmm," she nodded, crunching on a piece of carrot before shooting Katniss a sly look. "But, I guess the side benefits make up for it."

Katniss slurped down the last of her soda with a grimace on her face, before placing the empty cup on the table. "Okay, gross, I don't need to hear about anything like that."

Madge grinned. "But you know…"

"What?" Her reply was sharper than she wanted it to be, but she _really_ didn't want to hear about Madge's sex life tonight. Especially when hers had been non-existent for the last 5 days while Peeta had been in New York for a photo shoot and some interviews.

"If you wanted to, it would be okay."

Katniss blinked. "Huh?"

"If you wanted to move out with Peeta. You could do that, if you really wanted to."

Katniss scowled and she shifted in her seat until her legs were stretched out like Madge's. "Why are you even saying this? It's just a stupid headline, a stupid magazine article."

"I realise it's just a magazine article - I'm just saying, is all," Madge said innocently. "If you decide to, I'm cool with it."

"It's not even on the agenda; we've hardly _really_ started properly dating."

Madge shrugged. "K, you've known you've wanted to be with each other since you were teenagers, even if you took the long ass way to get there. So I don't think it would be totally out of the blue if it _was_ on the agenda."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "We've only officially been together for three months."

"And according to the rest of Panem, it's been over 5 months, which by entertainment industry standards is a long term relationship."

"I know, which just reiterates the absurdity of it all. Peeta and I...we're not at that stage, okay?" _The thought of moving in with Peeta, taking that step...it was weird. Too much, too soon._

"Okay," Madge replied agreeably, scooped up another mound of noodles as she eyed the glossy cover again. "Although I gotta say, maybe _you_ should stop reading my magazines."

"Maybe you should stop leaving them around, practically begging me to read them," Katniss countered, and Madge crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue in reply.

"You know you're curious about what they say."

"No I'm not." _Yeah, she kind of was, as much as she hated it._

"Are too."

"Ugh, whatever," Katniss retorted. "Isn't there something else we can talk about other than my apparent change of living arrangements?"

Madge wiped a wayward smear of sauce off her chin, nodded her head towards the TV. "Yeah, would you change the channel? There's a _Community_ marathon on in ten, and I wanna watch it."

Lifting the remote that had been resting on the arm of her chair, Katniss switched channels, happy to be off the topic of something she hadn't even thought about.

* * *

"Katniss, I want you to redo the end of that last track. Something feels...off. It's not sitting right with me."

Katniss lips firmed in a straight line as Cinna's voice came through the speakers from the sound booth. "What do you mean, exactly?" she asked, turning to face the window, and she knew she sounded petulant.

It had been a long day. A long day in the studio with hours of singing, recording, re-recording, re-arranging.

She just wanted to go home, eat a pizza, and sleep.

"I mean that it's not hitting the feeling it needs to. The words and your tone don't match." Cinna - her long time music producer - rose from his seat, rested a hand against the glass that separated them. "This song is about defeating the odds, about coming through adversity. And I'm not getting that feeling from you right now."

"Maybe it's because I'm tired," she muttered.

He nodded slightly. "I don't doubt it. We all are. But just finish this off, and we can all go home."

"Can't we go home now?" _Wow, she really sounded surly tonight._

"Once more, and then we'll go," Cinna promised - until she realised it wasn't Cinna. It was Peeta. And he'd just walked into her line of sight in the sound booth.

"Peeta?" she asked in surprise. The last 6 days had been the longest since the contract had started that she'd gone without seeing him. Even when they'd been at each other's throats, when they'd argued or sniped at each other more than anything else, she'd still seen him at least every second day.

She hadn't realised how much she'd missed him until she saw him again.

"Hey Katniss," he grinned, waved at her through the window in the awkward kind of way he still harboured from school.

"You're back already? I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow?"

"Got an earlier flight - I came straight here from the airport."

"Oh." She began to smile then, stupidly, ignorant to the looks that were exchanged by the sound engineers and musicians, and the understanding that crossed Cinna's. "Well...yeah. Okay. Cool."

"You ready to go through it again, Katniss?" Cinna asked, and this time his voice was significantly gentler than it had been. "Starting from _'keep your feet ready'_?"

She nodded, her mind already on walking out the front door with Peeta. "Alright. Let's go through it once more."

Once more was all she needed. Whatever Cinna had been looking for, he found it with the next run through and soon enough he was announcing that she was free and clear and her album was on schedule to be completely finished by the following week.

It was the best news she'd heard all day.

Bundling herself up in her jacket, she moved out of the studio, meeting Peeta in the hallway. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, before sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her in. His head dropped to the curve of her shoulder, and she felt him breathe in deeply. "You smell so good," he murmured against her skin, and the feeling of his breath made a shiver run down her spine.

"I smell like a day spent in the studio, which likely equals sweat," she replied, and she felt the movement of his chest against hers as he chuckled.

"You smell like _you_ ," he told her. "And I've missed you." Peeta pulled away far enough that he could look at her, lifted a hand to tug on the end of her trademark braid. "You wanna come back to my place? Stay over?" He quirked a brow. "I promise it won't be like last time."

The last time she'd stayed at his place, they hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of paparazzi staking out Peeta's house in trendy West Panem, had been too busy thinking about getting inside and getting naked to even consider it. But one of the sneaky bastards - with a long range lense and a good vantage point up in a tree - had caught them as they'd stumbled inside Peeta's front door, arms wrapped around each other's waists, Peeta's mouth attached to Katniss' neck.

When the pictures had popped up online the next day, Caesar and Plutarch had congratulated them on their foresight to spot the pap, to make the most of the opportunity. Katniss hadn't returned since.

"Are we going to get a nasty surprise on _Templesmith's Truths!_ again if we do?"

He shook his head. "Nope. That new security system is in, and I got a landscaping company to come in and plant a bunch of pre-established bushes around the entrance. Complete privacy, and no one is getting up in any of those trees again."

"Well..." she pretended to consider it, but there was no need to. She hadn't seen him in a week - they both already knew the answer. "Alright, let's go. Before Cinna makes me run through that track again."

"It sounded great to me - I don't think you need to worry about that," he told her.

"Yeah, yeah," Katniss muttered, but his words gave her a sense of pride. He'd sat in on quite a few sessions of hers now, had even helped her out with one of her songs when the words hadn't been sitting right with her while recording. It still made her stomach quiver when he complimented her.

From Peeta, the compliments seemed to mean more than they did from anyone else. Even Prim.

"If we're going to your place, can we get pizza from Sae's for dinner?" she asked, naming the Italian restaurant around the corner from Peeta's that was delicious, discreet, and always allowed them to do takeout, even though they were technically only a dine-in.

"Already ordered," Peeta announced.

"Oh, so sure I'd say yes, were you? How presumptuous."

"Not presumptuous. Let's just say I was...hopeful," he replied with a cheeky grin, and tucked his hand into hers.

The drive to Peeta's from the studio was a relatively quick one. Within twenty minutes they were pulling into his driveway, the take-out pizza in hand, and having barely covered half of what had happened during Peeta's trip to New York; the interviews, the photo shoot with a woman who'd had so much plastic surgery she vaguely resembled a tiger, an overzealous fan who'd tried to kiss him when he'd been spotted in the audience at a Broadway show.

"Yeah, never mind the potential Jail Bait. Did you go and check out that new gallery in Midtown that you told me you wanted to see?" Katniss asked as they stepped inside his front door. Despite their previous run-in with the paparazzi, she liked coming to Peeta's house more than anywhere else. It was cozy, nothing like what she imagined most of Panem's superstar musicians and actors lived in. It looked like a home, not a showpiece - lots of whites and creams and warm wood accents, with touches of orange and red throughout the house; plush throw pillows on the sofa, a big ass screen in the den, a kitchen with all the trimmings and an art studio she knew he was spending more and more time in as the days progressed and the band hiatus continued.

"I did," he confirmed, closing the door behind them and toeing his shoes off. "Some of the work there was incredible."

"Did you ask about the possibility of showing some of your own art there?" She trailed him into the kitchen, where he opened the fridge and drew out two beers, popping the tops and handing one over to her. Peeta took a sip before shaking his head.

"Nah. The stuff they were showing there is far better than mine."

"Stop it," Katniss said firmly. "That gallery specialises in up and coming artists. If you want to make something of that side of your talents, Peeta, you should. You know Plutarch and Caesar promised to support you in this - it was part of the whole reason you signed the contract, remember?" She remembered. _Her_ reasons for signing had been simple - 6 months pretending to date Peeta Mellark meant that her sister's entire medical school bill would be paid. With change. Peeta's, on the other hand, had been to ensure the support of Capitol Records as he explored the possibility of a career outside of music, and using his creative talents in the art world.

"I know, but-"

"No buts." She placed her beer on the counter, lifted her hands to his cheeks. It wasn't often that she got to provide him any sort of encouragement or comfort - he always seemed so self-assured, so confident - so that when she could, she took advantage of it. "Your work is amazing. Do it, you hear?"

"I feel like I can't say no."

"And you'd be right." She grinned, pecked him on the cheek. "Now let's get started on this pizza - I'm starving."

* * *

They sprawled on his overstuffed sofa and ate until they were almost comatose, watched an old episode of _Friends_ before they both dragged out notebooks - Peeta to sketch, Katniss to work on some lyrics. Nights like this were nice, she thought. It made things feel _real_ , made up for all the times when she felt like they had to be a trumped up version of Katniss and Peeta, ones putting on a show for everyone around them.

Of course, she also wanted to get him naked later, but after eating half a pizza, she didn't even want to _think_ about moving right now.

The loud and sudden ringing of a cell phone broke them both out of their reveries. Both glanced at their phones on the coffee table - Katniss immediately turned back to her lyrics when she realised it was Peeta's phone going off, not hers.

"Peeta Mellark," he greeted. "Oh. Hi." The rest of the conversation was muted as Peeta rose from the sofa and walked away, the voice on the other end nothing but an endless mumble. It was probably his dad, Katniss decided. He often called in the evening, after the Mellark family's bakery had closed for the day.

It didn't take long for the call to end, and for to Peeta cross back to her. He sighed loudly, sliding his iPhone back in his pocket. "That was Plutarch."

"And?" Katniss didn't take her eyes off the notepad in front of her, repeating the lyrics she'd written there over and over again in her head.

"Now that I'm back from New York, they want to meet with us on Tuesday at 10."

At this, Katniss looked up, concern furrowing her brow. "Did they say what they want?"

Peeta shrugged, dropped to the sofa beside her. "No. I'm guessing maybe it's just to wrap up the contract? It's only got a few weeks to go, maybe they just want to go over the financial terms again."

"Maybe," Katniss mused. "I mean, they've got to be pretty happy with how things have been going, so I can't imagine it's anything bad. We've been holding up our end of the bargain with lots of press."

"I doubt it could be anything bad," Peeta agreed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drew her in closer. "Anyway, you wanna show me those lyrics you've been working on?"

She threw the notepad face down onto the floor, screwed up her nose. "No."

"Why not?"

"You _know_ I don't show anyone what I'm writing until it's done and I'm in the studio. Not even you, Mellark," she warned, as he opened his mouth to protest. "We've talked about this before. I don't care that you're my boyfriend - no dice."

"Say it again," he grinned.

"Say what?"

"Say what I am," he prodded, and she rolled her eyes.

"A pain in my ass?" she quipped.

"Not quite…"

"An annoying acquaintance?"

"Almost there…"

This time when she replied, she pushed him in the chest, and scoffed. "Oh fine. _Boyfriend_ then."

"There we go," he murmured. He moved in until his mouth was covering hers; as the kiss deepened, as their mouths began to move more greedily and her hands reached up to clutch at his shirt, he gently lowered her backwards until her back hit the seat of the sofa. He pulled away slightly so he could hover over her, his blue eyes shining and his mouth quirking up on the left just the slightest bit more than the right. He shifted his weight so he was cradled between her legs and undulated his hips slightly, made her eyes roll back in her head as the curl of lust lanced through her. "So you want to keep working on that song?"

She drew him back down, fusing their mouths together and thrusting her hips up to bump eagerly against his, and when she spoke next, the words were muttered against his lips.

"What song?"

* * *

She stalked down the hallway at Capitol Records, her flats barely making a sound against the plush carpet. And even if they had, she probably wouldn't have heard it through the roaring in her ears, the pounding of her heart.

 _They wanted them to break up_.

"Katniss, wait! Wait up!"

She could hear Peeta calling for her, but she couldn't stop. She wanted to put as much distance between her and Caesar and Plutarch as she could, didn't want to be anywhere near them right now. Not after the bomb they'd just thrown at them carelessly.

 _"You're both aware your contract is close to ending," Caesar had begun, smoothing back hair that was now a pale blue, shot through with glittering silver._

 _"Of course," Peeta had replied._

 _"We just wanted to discuss the...closing out of it. How you were planning on ending things? Had you had any thoughts? Because if you don't, we have a few."_

 _She'd blinked then, her head jerking back in shock. Ending things? What were they ending things for-_

 _Then the realisation had hit her like a freight train. The end of their contract meant they didn't have to put on the charade anymore, that, according to Capitol Records, 'Everlark' no longer needed to exist._

 _Plutarch and Caesar wanted them to end it._

 _"It's been wildly successful," Plutarch had been spouting boastfully when she'd tuned back into the conversation. "You both garnered wonderful press; Katniss, sales of the re-release went through the roof and anticipation for your new album is strong. And Peeta, well, I think it's safe to say your continued presence in the spotlight has put you, Finnick and Annie as the frontrunner for album of the year. A little promo goes a long way, my friends. So congratulations."_

 _She'd felt Peeta stiffen beside her, his voice miraculously calm and even when he asked what their ideas were with the end of the contract. Caesar had casually tossed out a few ideas - one involving Glimmer that made her blood boil - and then Plutarch had announced they already had a variety of press releases ready to go whenever they were ready to break up, whether it be next month, or after the six months had officially ended. "Although," he'd gently reminded them, "I wouldn't suggest you drag it out too long, as there are no financial benefits after the contract ends. And let's be honest, a break up prior to the awards ceremony would be a_ _huge_ _boost for you both, so I do believe you should expedite it. Of course, it is up to you."_

 _Peeta had murmured his understanding, while she'd remained mute._

 _How had they never thought of this? How, in the last few months, had they never thought about what could happen when the contract was done? Had they been living in fantasy land? Had they gotten so caught up in everything that they'd forgotten the reality?_

Katniss walked blindly into the elevator, didn't even notice when Peeta stepped in beside her. Didn't pay attention to anything as she walked through the underground carpark to Peeta's Jeep, didn't say a word as he switched on the ignition and peeled back out onto the street.

But she could see the way his hands clenched the wheel so tightly, his knuckles were white.

Peeta drove all the way to the coast, to a secluded spot they'd discovered one lazy Sunday afternoon. A spot that had been deserted every other time they'd been there and, thankfully, was so again today. He pulled the car to a stop, where they both stared out the front windscreen blankly, until Katniss shoved open the door and stumbled outside. She could feel his eyes burning into her back as she moved across the grass, until she'd reached the ledge. She wrapped her arms around her waist, felt the salty breeze whip at her braid and tug strands of hair from its confines as she stared down at the crashing water below.

"Katniss."

His voice was soft, and barely carried across the wind to her.

"I'm not in the mood to talk, Peeta," she croaked out. "I just...I can't. Not right now. I can't even think about that."

"I don't _want_ to think about it."

She whirled to face him then, studied his own stormy eyes and haphazard hair, the way his hands were fisted at his sides. "Want? _Want_? I don't think anything about this has to do with _want_ , Peeta. It has to do with contracts, and signed dotted lines, and them telling us what they want us to do."

"It was just a suggestion, Katniss, not an order!"

"It may as well have been. They told us they've already written the press releases on our break up!"

"I don't care."

"Well, I wish I could say I don't care about us having to break up, but I do. It means we can't be together. How can we be together if we have to break up?!" She knew she was verging on sounding hysterical, but she couldn't help it. Finally, she felt like she'd gotten her life together; through fate, through circumstance, through whatever the hell it was. And now, they were going to take it all away from her.

Peeta shook his head again, crossed the grass until he was standing directly in front of her.

"There is nowhere in the contract where it says we _have_ to break up, or that we _can't_ be together."

She threw her arms out wide. "They made it pretty clear that that's what they want!"

"I don't care about what they want, or their suggestions. I don't want to break up with you, Katniss. Ever. I want to marry you."

 _What?_

"What?" she repeated her own thought aloud, almost dumbly, and took a step back in shock. His hand reached out and caught her wrist, drew her back closer to him and away from the ledge.

"I want to marry you," he said firmly, quietly, and his eyes were almost midnight in their intensity. "I have for years, thought I'd lost my chance until this all happened. And now...I don't want to let the chance go by again."

"You want to marry me?" _How? Why? What the hell was happening?_

He nodded, his fingers tightening, then loosening, then tightening again around her wrist. She realised he was nervous, that each flick of his fingers was like he was playing the strings of a guitar. "Yeah, I do. I love you, Katniss."

"But...but what about Plutarch? What about Caesar? What about them wanting us to break up?"

"Fuck 'em," he said flippantly. "In a few week's time, this contract will be done, and there's nothing more for them to exploit. We can play the game just as well as they can." He moved forward a little more until she was all but in his arms. "I guess now I just need to know if you want to marry _me_."

She tried to clear her throat, but nothing seemed to work. "Are you...are you officially asking me here?"

"I'm probably doing it wrong," he admitted. "In fact, I _know_ I'm doing it horribly wrong, and not at all in the way I wanted to. But...yeah. I am. Will you marry me, Katniss? When our contract with Capitol Records is done, will you make things real with me?"

She blinked, felt her heart pound so hard she was worried it was going to beat right out of her chest. After the bombshell from Capitol, she'd never expected their conversation to go down this road, had never expected him to _propose_. 5 minutes ago, they were arguing about Caesar and Plutarch and their ridiculous schemes. 5 days ago, she was telling Madge it was ridiculous for them to even think about moving in together. And now this?! _Marriage_?! It was too soon. It was too unexpected. It was too crazy. It was too-

"Yes," she blurted, before she could second guess herself, or talk herself out of it, or convince herself he was going to change his mind at any moment. "I love you too. So yes."

The grin that crossed Peeta's face was wide and broad, and she didn't have another second to think before he'd yanked her against his chest and was kissing her like his life depended on it.

Katniss couldn't wait until this stupid contract was done.


End file.
